Do You Believe in Magic?
by Lady Margot
Summary: What happens when a technomage meets a real Mage?


Do You Believe in Magic?  
  
Gideon kicked at the ground in frustration. The crew of the Excalibur had been on this little backwater planet for less than a day and it already felt as though they had been there forever. The Rangers had brought back word of a previously unknown planet with the ruins of an advanced civilization, exactly the sort of place that the Earth-Force crew was looking for. Even more interesting was the fact that Drakh ships had been recently sighted in the area. 'Anything they're interested in - I'm interested in,' Gideon had decided before he had set course. But now that he and his crew were here, there didn't seem to be much for either side to find; even the planet's weather had ceased to cooperate. A fine, gray mist was slowly creeping up around them, wrapping them in its clammy embrace. The sunlit glade was darkening as though a light was being slowly dimmed, and the temperature was dropping fast.  
  
"Gentlemen," he said, motioning his two companions to precede him, "unless someone has found something interesting in the last five minutes I think we can call this party a bust and get everyone back to the ship."  
  
"So far, these ruins are remarkably uninteresting," Max Eilerson commented, walking away from the portion of ruined wall he had been studying. "Primitive construction, no signs of an advanced civilization and worse yet, no sign of useful technology. I can't imagine what the Drakh could have wanted with this boring little piece of Heaven."  
  
"Neither can I." Gideon acknowledged, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the landing party. He was particularly interested in the impressions of Galen, the Technomage who had attached himself to their quest. He had appeared aboard the Excalibur a few days before the reported Drakh sightings, returning from one of his usual mysterious trips. Now he stood gazing out over the landscape, a puzzled look in his eyes.  
  
"Matthew, what do you know about this planet?" Galen asked quizzically.  
  
"Not much. It's so far off the beaten tracks there haven't been many ships that have bothered to explore it. Why do you ask?"  
  
"I'm not sure." Galen admitted, uncertain. "But something about this place doesn't feel quite right."  
  
Max shivered suddenly, coldness creeping up his spine. "Did someone turn down the thermostat when we weren't looking?" he asked sarcastically. He squinted back at the wall he had been examining, unable to find it now that the mists had risen.  
  
From somewhere in the depths of the dimming light, a voice called out. "Who are you?" The question echoed eerily in the fog, seeming to come from all directions at once.  
  
Gideon at once took up a defensive stance, motioning his landing party to begin retreating to the shuttle. "Who's out there?" he called out, keeping his hand on his PPG.  
  
Two figures appeared suddenly in the mist, moving so silently that Gideon would later swear they had simply appeared at the spot. Both were wearing the dark, hooded cloak that Galen and his order seemed to favor and both carried staffs similar to the Technomage.' The smaller figure also appeared to have a sword slung across its back, with a small dagger hanging from the heavy belt. Both stopped before the Excalibur's captain. "I asked first." The smaller figure replied, pushing back its hood.  
  
Gideon stared into a pair of chocolate brown eyes, which stared back at him in amusement. The face those eyes were set in belonged to a young woman. She was not classically beautiful, her face being marred by a thin scar running from cheekbone to temple. Her face was long and narrow, reminding Gideon of a cat he had once known. Her long, dark hair was caught up in a braid, which fell past her shoulder blades. "My apologies." Gideon replied, smiling in spite of himself. "I'm Matthew Gideon, Captain of the Earth Alliance ship the Excalibur. And you are.?"  
  
"Isolde." The woman replied with a smile. "Guardian of the Crossroads. This is my companion, Damien."  
  
The taller figure pushed back his hood to reveal a man slightly older than his companion. His eyes were cold and gray in a thin face accented by a scruffy beard and mustache. The man's hair was as long and dark as his companion's and held away from his face by a leather cord. "Pleasure to meet you, Captain Gideon. Care to tell us what you are doing here at the Crossroads?"  
  
"The Crossroads?" Galen asked, stepping up to stand at Gideon's side.  
  
The two cloaked figures stared at him for a moment. Then the woman shrugged and looked up at her companion with a laugh. "He's a Technomage."  
  
"His name is Galen." Gideon offered, wondering what the two found so funny. Laughter was not the usual response most people had to the intimidating Mage.  
  
"My apologies." Isolde replied. "But I find the idea of simulating magic with technology rather amusing."  
  
"If you're going to go to that much trouble." Damien commented dryly. "Why not just learn real magic?"  
  
"Real magic!" Galen sneered. "Do you believe in magic?"  
  
"We are Magic." Isolde replied.  
  
Gideon stared at the strangers with a frown. "Okay, sure. So, what are the Crossroads?"  
  
Isolde smiled with amusement, an emotion that never seemed to reach her dark eyes. "It is what it is. A place between here and there."  
  
"That tells us nothing." Max griped, turning back to the ruined wall he had been examining.  
  
"Maybe because you're not listening." Damien replied sarcastically. "But then, Max Eilerson, that seems to be a problem of yours."  
  
Max turned back, startled. "How did you know my name?"  
  
"We know all who come to the Crossroads." Isolde said, glancing backwards at the wall of fog that had formed behind them. "For instance, I know you were raised on Mars. You were always too bright for your own good, unable to form friendships, your knowledge so much greater than your contemporaries. Interplanetary Expeditions was the first place you really felt you belonged, where you felt your learning was appreciated. Your ex- wife."  
  
"That's quite enough." Max growled, yanking his knapsack from the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. "You've proven you can do a good background search, nothing more."  
  
"And pray tell, Mr. Eilerson, how would we do such a search here on this boring little piece of Heaven." Isolde moved to separate herself from her companion, circling the group to the right as Damien circled to the left, putting the small group squarely between them.  
  
"You'll have to do better than that if you're expecting me to believe in Magic." Galen commented, taking a firm hold on his staff. His eyes never left the woman's figure, leaving the man to Gideon, who had also turned to follow the stranger's movements.  
  
"Knowledge, they say, is power. So tell me, Technomage, what knowledge would you like to gain power over me? You have already received the answer to your one unasked question, yet you've chosen to deny it." Isolde planted herself before the dark-clad figure her sober eyes locked on his.  
  
"My unasked question?" Galen asked quietly.  
  
"Your question was simple - Why. You received your answer from the source. Isabelle. She sent you a message from beyond yet your pain and anger lead you to deny it."  
  
Galen stiffened momentary; his mind flashing back to the message Matheson had given him. He had not chosen to believe that it was from her, had not allowed himself to hope there might be something beyond which would allow him, one day, to be with her again. "Very impressive." He replied, his words cold and biting. "You must be a very high level telepath to have ripped that from my mind without my knowledge."  
  
"I've not touched your mind." The woman reached into her cloak and pulled out a small crystal globe the size of a baseball. She sang softly to it, in a tune all the men instinctively knew yet could not place. Its center grew cloudy then an image in its depths sharpened to clarity. It was an image of Galen and his long-dead love on the day they were betrayed by members of their order. The scene played out in all of its long ago devastation. "Time has no secrets from Me.," the woman whispered softly, holding out the globe to the man before her.  
  
"Damn you for that." Galen snarled, as he slapped the crystal from her hand. He barely noticed as the globe went flying against a rocky outcrop and smashed into a thousand pieces, each piece still replaying the moment his heart had broken forever. "What are you?"  
  
"I am older than time, the spirit of this place, the guardian of this Crossroads. From here, only those who chose to pass into another reality will be allowed to continue their journey. My brother and I are here to watch for those magical beings seeking shelter from the disbelief of others. We send them on to the place where all magic is normal and good and they will be welcomed, not persecuted." Isolde moved to the rocks and picked up a few pieces of her shattered globe. She shut her hand over their jagged lengths, drawing blood from her own palm to join the shards together. When she opened her hand, the globe had been reformed, its center empty of its previous vision.  
  
  
  
Pt. 2  
  
"Now, Captain Gideon, what image shall my pretty bauble show you this day?" Isolde asked softly. "Or better yet, what shall it tell me about you? Perhaps it will speak of that mysterious source of information you turn to when even your Rangers know nothing about new places. What name does it use when it speaks to you or better yet what voice?"  
  
Gideon stepped back, startled. The Box had warned him not to come to this place, a warning he had chosen to ignore because of the Drakh's obvious interest in the planet. But its voice had had a strangely familiar tone to it, a sound he knew he had heard before but couldn't quite identify. He glanced quickly up at Galen, who had not taken his eyes from the woman's figure and licked his dry lips. "If it's a question you're looking to answer for me, how about telling me what the Drakh wanted here? Surely they don't believe in magic?"  
  
Damien threw back his head and laughed, a hollow sound that sent chills through the humans who heard it. "Those ones? Mere imitations of their masters and poor imitations at that. It is for that reason that they come here; hoping to find some sparks of power their master's left behind to enhance themselves. They are shadows of Shadows and nothing more."  
  
"They want some power you have." Max reasoned, frowning as his eyes drifted to the poor stonewall he had been examining. "But there isn't anything here."  
  
"Isn't there?" Isolde replied with a smile. She lightly tossed the crystal globe into the air, high above her head. As it reached its zenith, her companion stretched out his hand and a stream of golden light flowed from him to the ball, blinding the landing party for a moment. Even Galen, with his enhancements, was forced to shield his eyes from its brilliance. When the light faded, the Excalibur's crewmembers looked about them in surprise. What had once been an overgrown glade was now a field of colorful flowers stretching to the horizon. The primitive stone wall had given way to a huge battlement, the outer wall for an even grander castle that reached up towards a clear and azure sky. Banners flew proudly along the wall, each proclaiming some great house or clan. Damien and Isolde were changed as well, no longer wearing their drab black cloaks and dark clothing. They were clad in golden cloth, silky and shimmering, yet resembling nothing so much as medieval armor. A golden hawk sat perched on Damien's shoulder, watching the stunned humans with unblinking eyes. From the depths of the castle gate, a large white owl swooped down on the woman, settling itself contentedly on her shoulder and hooting softly in her ear.  
  
"Impressive." Galen admitted, dryly. "It's amazing what one can do with cloaking devices."  
  
"You will never believe, mage, because the magic in your life was darkened with the death of another. How sad, as this place could be a sanctuary for you, a place of refuge and study when you weary of your long road. But that would take more of your soul than you are willing to give." Isolde absently scratched the owl's pure white feathers then whispered in its ear. It took to flight with a startled hoot, flying past Gideon's face as though it had been stung. "Silly bird. Always forgetting something."  
  
"Like you, sister?" Damien asked, quietly amused. "Captain Gideon, this source of knowledge you hide in your cabin, has it lied to you yet?"  
  
"What!" Gideon looked at the man in astonishment, remembering the words of the Box's previous owner.  
  
"The man you had the Box from warned you of its propensity towards lying, did he not?" Damien continued, reading the thoughts in Gideon's mind as easily as if he were reading words on a page. "He did not own it. The poor creature was merely a convenient pair of legs to move it from where it was to where it wanted to go. When its vassal became more trouble than he was worth, it arranged for him to lose it to you. Now you are its vassal, taking it further and further into the galaxy, bringing it.here." Damien waved his hand over the ground in front of Gideon, making a magic sign in the air. Suddenly there appeared before the startled captain the last thing he had ever thought to see on this world - the Apocalypse Box.  
  
Pt.3  
  
Gideon stared at the box in astonishment, the blood draining from his face. "How?" he whispered.  
  
Galen also stared at the box with dread. "Matthew, what have you done?"  
  
Damien shrugged, disturbing the hawk that still sat on his shoulder. It steadied itself with outstretched wings then settled back into its intent observation of the group in front of him. "The Box wanted to be here. I simply gave it what it wanted."  
  
"Why did it want to be here?" Gideon asked harshly, ignoring the other members of his party to concentrate on the figure before him.  
  
"Do you remember the story of Aladdin's lamp? The author of that story took many liberties with the truth. The jinn in the lamp was not merely a helpless slave, giving to its greedy masters all that their self-centered dreams could conjure. It had a purpose, a goal in mind when it offered its services to any who called it from the lamp. So does the creature which calls to you from this elaborate coffin." Damien approached the box slowly, contemplating its ornate design with disdain. "The creature was looking for a soul, one soul in all the world, that it could lure into its web. Left to its own devices, this sentient life form is powerless, unable to affect anything outside the confines of its world. But it can manipulate with its words, giving information, false hope - anything to bind another to its will."  
  
"For what purpose?" Galen asked, staring down at the box with concern. He had heard of such Boxes while still with his order. His own teacher, Eldric, had spoken of it once in passing, dismissing the tales of the Boxes origins and powers as so many fairy tales. But even then, Galen had know that there had been more to the story than just legends, for he had heard a trace of fear in his teacher's voice whenever the subject had been brought up. And Eldric had feared nothing. "Why does it want this control?"  
  
"Why? To be free, of course." Isolde replied, pulling the short sword from its sheath on her back and poking the box with its tip. "It is bound to its box just as the jinn was bound to its lamp. It can't be free, however, unless someone releases it."  
  
"What is it exactly?" Max asked with a frown, annoyed at being ignored. "A First One? One of the Shadows?"  
  
"You might say it is a construct of that era." Isolde contemplated the box somberly. "It was alive when the First Ones, as you call them, were at their greatest power but wasn't really one of them. The Shadows, as you know them, created it from their own genetic material, a "child" as it were of their own genius. But it developed too much of a desire for power and tried to turn against its creators, something your Drakh would have done eventually had not the Universe risen up as it did. So they destroyed most of those they created and placed the others in these gilded prisons, to await the day when they could be used as a weapon at their master's pleasure."  
  
"You said they had no power." Galen turned to the woman, careful to keep out of reach of her sword. "What kind of a weapon would they have made?"  
  
"The best kind." Gideon replied, backing away from the box. He could hear the voice emanating from the Box, warning him not to come to this planet. It had sounded so familiar and now he knew why. "It's a weapon of the mind. It worms its way into your dreams, your soul until it controls every move you make, every thought you think, every feeling you experience. It tells you enough of the truth to be disarming, to make you doubt everything you hear and see. It lies only enough so that you can't recognize the truth anymore."  
  
"Whose voice do you hear when it speaks to you?" Damien asked gently.  
  
"My own." Gideon replied in horror. "My own."  
  
Pt. 4  
  
Isolde smiled sadly. "Yes, Captain. It chose the voice you would be most likely to trust, the voice you hear inside your head. For some, it was the voice of a parent or loved one who was long gone. But for you, Matthew Gideon, it chose your own voice for you have never felt able to rely on anyone else's council but your own. It played on your own suspicions, your inability to form close bonds with others. It would, eventually, have severed you from even those few relationships you have trust in. Has it not already told you not to trust Galen?"  
  
Gideon glanced up at the Technomage, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "Yes." Gideon whispered, dropping his eyes to the box again.  
  
"So, what do we do with it?" Max asked, reasonably. "Can it be used to find a cure for the Drakh plague?"  
  
"It knows where that secret is to be found." Isolde replied, looking back at the castle. The white figure of the owl appeared suddenly in the entrance to its darkened keep, winging its was silently back to her side. She smiled as it settled on her shoulder and inclined her head slightly to hear its soft hoots. "My friend says the court is ready to begin, my brother. This will have to wait for another time."  
  
"We haven't got time!" Gideon moved to stand between the two mysterious figures and the castle. "If this box has the information we need, then tell us how to get it out of it."  
  
"It will give you what you want." Damien stated, lifting his hawk from its precarious perch on his shoulder and sending it winging back to the castle battlements. "But you must be prepared to give it what it wants as well."  
  
"It's freedom." Galen snarled, lifting his staff to strike. "Never!"  
  
Isolde held up her hand in the Technomages direction and his strike was never completed. Galen felt the staff wrench itself from his grasp and stared, incredulously, as it flew into her hand. "Give me my staff!"  
  
"Not until you promise to behave." Isolde chided. She examined the creation of technomancy with amusement. "Really, Damien, I think its quite irresponsible of this order to give their children such dangerous toys to play with."  
  
"He's not a child, sister dear." Damien replied with a laugh. "And I suspect he doesn't see that as a toy. But that's neither here not there. Come, the court awaits us. Time to close this gate for the time being."  
  
"No!" Gideon exclaimed, moving to intercept the two. He found himself staring at a blank stonewall where the duo had once stood. Staring back he found that the castle and all its surrounding scenery were gone, replaced by the dull and lifeless planet they had first seen. "Galen? What happened?"  
  
"I don't know, Matthew." Galen replied somberly. "I don't know."  
  
"Well, far be it from me to be the bearer of bad tidings gentlemen." Max commented, gathering his equipment quickly. "But I think our two new friends just made off with the captain's box."  
  
Gideon and Galen looked around in dismay. The Box was indeed gone, disappeared along with the rest.  
  
Pt. 5  
  
Matheson paced quietly around the Excalibur's bridge, carefully watching his captain's movements without appearing to do so. It had been almost two full days since the landing party had returned from the mysterious world beneath them. Two days of Gideon's morose, introspective behavior and Eilerson's almost manic conversation. Even Galen had been different, uncharacteristically angry one moment, the next quietly depressed. None of them had given a good explanation for what had happened on the planet's surface or why - two days later - they still hovered over its dead surface. "Captain?"  
  
Gideon looked up at his first officer, puzzled. "Yes?"  
  
"Sir, how much longer will we be in orbit?" Matheson looked around the bridge, watching the shift change before he continued. "Is there something the sensor's are not picking up on the planet's surface?"  
  
"No." Gideon looked back at the viewing screen with a sigh. "Nothing except .Do you believe in magic?"  
  
Matheson blinked at the odd question. "I'm not sure I follow you, sir."  
  
Gideon smiled then shrugged. "Never mind. Keep the scans going for another twelve hours then prepare the ship to leave orbit. I'll be in my cabin if you need me."  
  
--  
  
Galen sat brooding in his ship, reviewing again the events on the planet. His tech had recorded no abnormalities during their encounter with the strange pair Isolde and Damien, which could not be correct. "Unless there really is magic," a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. He silenced the voice ruthlessly and continued his diagnostic, trying to pin down an explanation for the events he had witnessed.  
  
--  
  
Max sat staring at his computer screen, debating how to word his latest report to the company. Somehow he doubted that Interplanetary Expeditions would believe that he had seen a castle and met real magic users. "They'd probably assume all this rushing around trying to find a cure for the plague has finally left me batty," he mused, finally turning off the computer. He sighed and turned back to reviewing the data from the last dead world they had found.  
  
--  
  
At the Crossroads, Isolde and Damien stood in the barren plain, looking up at the sky. "The Drakh are coming," she said calmly, pointing to a barely discernable speck in the sky. "What do you want to do with them?"  
  
"What did we do with the Shadows when they come here?" Damien asked, squinting up at the moving light.  
  
"Boiled them and had them for supper with butter sauce."  
  
He grimaced. "Oh, that right. I remember that dinner. The priests were appalled."  
  
"They hadn't seen what the Shadows had done to the younger races. Besides, it was nothing personal. I'd have boiled the Vorlons if they had set foot in our realm."  
  
"Somehow I think they would have tasted worse than the Shadows did."  
  
She shrugged, unconcerned. "Probably. So, to the right we have the Excalibur and to the left the Drakh. Shall we allow them to meet or shall we take a hand in this?"  
  
Damien pulled his cloak around his shoulders and moved back towards a rock outcropping in the distance. "I'm not inclined to interfere. You can if it amuses you."  
  
"I'm so easily amused," she replied, stretching out her arms to the night wind. "And I'm bored tonight. Perhaps I will make a little trek to the stars, to see what can seen."  
  
"Just as long as you return for court in the morning," he warned, looking back at her from the rocks. "You know I hate to deal with business alone."  
  
"I've not missed a morning court in forever," she chided. "I've no intention to start now." She closed her eyes and envisioned the ships above her, picking her destination carefully. With a smile she let the winds carry her away, up towards the evenings amusement. 


End file.
